Meet Dra. Lizabeth Garza-García

One of the most defining decisions I ever made happened in college when I chose to learn Spanish. While many people assume I grew up speaking it, the truth is much more complicated. My grandmother made the painful decision not to pass Spanish down to her children or grandchildren. She had lived through a time when signs reading “No Dogs, No Mexicans” were a painful reminder that speaking Spanish could make you a target. Like so many families of her generation, she believed she was protecting us by helping us assimilate.

Choosing to learn Spanish became my own act of reclaiming what history had tried to erase. It was an act of resistance and a decision to live unapologetically bilingual. As I learned the language, I discovered more than vocabulary and grammar. I finally understood the emotion woven through the songs I had heard my entire life. I connected more deeply with my culture, my family, and a part of myself I hadn’t fully known. Most importantly, I came to understand the wisdom behind the saying, “Quien sabe dos idiomas, vale por dos.” Knowing two languages didn’t simply make me bilingual; it expanded the way I saw the world.

That journey eventually led me into a bilingual classroom, where I found my purpose. There, I witnessed firsthand the inequities that multilingual students and their families experienced every day. I saw brilliance overlooked because of language, potential underestimated because of bias, and systems that too often expected students to adapt instead of adapting to meet their needs. Those experiences transformed me from an educator into an advocate.

Today, that same purpose continues to guide everything I do. I believe in doing what is good and right for kids, even when it means asking difficult questions or challenging long-held assumptions. I believe in honoring language as a strength, not a barrier. And I hope to leave public education better than I found it by helping create schools where every student is seen, valued, and given every opportunity to thrive.

I believe language is a gift, not a barrier. The languages our students bring into our classrooms are not obstacles to overcome; they are strengths to build upon. When we honor a student’s language, we honor their identity, their family, and their story.

I believe leadership is about service. Titles may open doors, but they do not define a leader. Real leadership is measured by the opportunities we create for others, the trust we build, and the courage we demonstrate when making difficult decisions in the best interest of students.

I believe public education is worth fighting for. Every generation inherits the responsibility of making our schools stronger than they found them. I hope to leave public education better than I found it by building systems that empower educators, elevate multilingual learners, and ensure that every child has access to an excellent education.

I believe meaningful change rarely comes from staying comfortable. Sometimes progress requires us to ask difficult questions, challenge outdated thinking, and be willing to cause a little desmadre in the name of equity and social justice. Not disruption for the sake of disruption, but the kind that pushes us to rethink what is possible for students and communities.

I believe data matters, but people matter more. Numbers tell us what is happening. Listening to students, families, and educators helps us understand why. The most effective decisions happen when we bring both together.

I believe research should never sit on a bookshelf. It should inform our practice, challenge our assumptions, and inspire us to do better for the students who are counting on us every day.

I believe educators deserve to be supported, not simply evaluated. When teachers grow, students thrive. Investing in educators is one of the most powerful ways we can improve outcomes for children.

Above all, I believe in leading with corazón. Leadership without compassion is management. Leadership with corazón is about listening before speaking, serving before leading, and remembering that every policy, every meeting, and every decision ultimately impacts a child.

At the end of my career, I don’t hope to be remembered for a title or a position. I hope to be remembered for helping others believe that better is possible—for students, for educators, and for public education itself. If my work leaves our schools more equitable, our leaders more courageous, and our children with greater opportunities than when I began, then I will know I have fulfilled my purpose.

I’m a firm believer that some of life’s best conversations happen over a great cup of coffee, that books are one of the best investments you can make, and that learning should never stop. I’m endlessly curious, always asking questions, and usually have more ideas than hours in the day.

I’m proud of my Mexican roots and the journey that led me to reclaim the Spanish language. It has shaped not only how I communicate, but also how I lead. My culture has taught me the value of community, resilience, humility, and showing up for others with corazón.

I also don’t believe leadership has to be stiff or polished all the time. I laugh loudly, celebrate people often, and have been known to say exactly what’s on my mind when it comes to doing what’s right for kids. I believe you can be both compassionate and courageous, kind and unapologetic.

At the end of the day, I’m simply a mujer who believes deeply in people. I believe in lifting others as I climb, opening doors that weren’t always open for us, and leaving every space a little better than I found it. If my work inspires someone to advocate a little louder, lead a little braver, or dream a little bigger, then I’m exactly where I’m meant to be.